


Rolling with the stab wounds

by UltimateGhoster



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Blood and Injury, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is Trying, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Negative Thoughts, Other, Protective Bruce Wayne, Sad Dick Grayson, Self Destructive Behaviour, Thoughts of allowing injury, Tim Drake is Red Robin, multiple stab wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateGhoster/pseuds/UltimateGhoster
Summary: Dick isn't doing that great, he's in Bludhaven and he's feeling the need to self destruct. He lets his slightly reckless behaviour get him injured whilst assisting Batman with some thugs, and ends up being taken to the cave to rest.That's it standard hurt/comfort with Dick getting injured and his family taking care of him after
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, No Romantic Relationship(s), Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 133





	Rolling with the stab wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for thoughts of doing things to deliberate get self hurt and for talk of a depressive episode. The latter is fairly minor and not really explicit but yeah just in case :)

Smoke blew from a vent off to his left, it twirled in the cool night air mixing with the condensation from his exhale. He returned the cigarette to his lips, letting the drag of toxic fumes burn his lungs and wash a sense of calm over him, gently soothing his reckless need to self destruct. Tonight was quiet, he wouldn’t be able to make his knuckles bleed, or leave himself open to hits he could’ve avoided easily if he wanted to, so instead he’d taken out the hidden pack of cigarettes from inside the vent and lit up. Just thinking about doing just a little damage to himself gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. Taking penance for every mistake, for everyone he’d failed, for everyone he hadn't saved, this is what he needed to suffer alone and aching. 

“Oracle, to Nightwing come in, over.” The comlink crackled to life in his ear cutting off his last thought.  
“N here, what’s up O?” Maybe a little action would finally give him the bruises he needed to make it through the week without breaking a mirror or some photo frames. He really needed to find a way to better manage his anger, but he felt entitled to having a little break down every once in a while. It wasn’t like he lacked an excuse right?  
“Batman reported a group leaving Gotham harbour, he thinks they’re related to the…..” the words faded out of focus in his ear, he knew he should’ve been paying more attention but after hearing about the prospect of a good fight he’d lost interest. “...you should be able to handle it, they weren’t armed when we saw them, but don’t hesitate to call for backup.”  
Replying in the affirmative, he took one last drag and began grappling towards the docks, setting up camp on a shipping container and waiting for the thugs to arrive. 

Eventually, he saw a boat pull in that looked like the one from the blurry picture Babs had sent him. He crept closer slowly, sticking as much to the shadows as possible, hoping to keep the element of surprise for his initial attack. The men varied in height but were all well built and checking over the shoulders every few seconds as they pulled duffel bags out of a hidden compartment on the small fisher. Unless there were some hiding away he made out six figures on board. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Nightwing leapt from the container, twisting with practised ease to land a kick on the nearest man before landing crouched on the dock. Alarm spread like a virus amongst the men as they temporarily froze in shock, rather than pressing the advantage, Nightwing allowed them to gather their bearings slightly before continuing his assault. He wasn’t going to let them win, but he revelled in every hit that snuck past his defences, creating sharp bursts of pain that would spread into dull bruises by morning. 

Swiping fists came at him from every angle, he subdued two of them letting them fall near the guy he had hit with the first kick. The fight continued with two of the remaining men who had become more aggressive from the fear of being down by half numbers. He focused on blocking most of their hits and landing more than he took, his mind had been distracted all evening itching for something to take away from the ups and downs he’d been experiencing for the past week. With his concentration entirely on the men in front of him, he didn’t notice the pain in his side was sharper than a fist usually would be, he felt it twice more in a similar spot before he turned to take the final man down. Choosing to ignore the warmth spreading along his waist, he asked Oracle to call the BPD for him to come to collect the men whilst he made sure they would be secure until they arrived.  
“Batman’s asked if you can come by the Cave ASAp to give your report on the group and if you could bring one of the duffle bags with you.”  
“ETA half an hour if the traffic stays good, Nightwing out,” Bruce asking to receive his report firsthand was a bit unusual, and normally he’d just send Tim or Damian to collect the bag when they next came over to visit. Still, Dick was aware more than most that his guardian wasn’t the best at communicating what he needed, so if he wanted to see Dick in person he had to have an excuse first. Things between them were fine, so he didn’t really have a reason to object, but he hadn’t felt like seeing anyone lately, the only interaction he tolerated was mandatory at work. Sicking a patch over his side and pulling his helmet on reluctantly, he began riding towards the Cave, sticking as much to country roads and avoiding the city. Bruce should still be out on patrol at this hour, why was he calling Dick to the Cave for some trivial evidence and a report?

The lights of the tunnel blinked past as Dick’s vision began to blur slightly if he made this meeting with Bruce quick he could get back to patch himself up without worrying anyone before they spotted the blood. Pulling a jacket out of the compartment under his seat and tugging it on, Dick made his way into the main cavern where the Bat stood facing a computer screen. There wasn’t much sign of anyone else around, the others were probably still out and hopefully, Damian was in bed. Giving himself a moment to feel more stable, Dick approached with the duffle bag in hand, testing how close he could get before Bruce would acknowledge him. Before he’d even made it halfway, Batman turned and eyed him warily taking in the jacket and slight paleness to his son’s skin, his eyes then locked on the duffel bag and he immediately returned to case mode. Nightwing offered him the bag without a word, settling down in one of the computer seats suddenly feeling unstable, his suit and the patch had done a good job of stemming the blood flow but it was looking increasingly unlikely that he was gonna make it back to Bludhaven before he passed out. After removing the items from the bag and setting them up to be scanned by the computer, the Bat turned back to him expectantly waiting for him to begin his report. 

“I arrived at the dock 10 minutes after receiving Oracle’s message, the boat didn’t arrive until 10 minutes after that.” He paused to give himself a minute to catch his breath but tried to mask it as contemplation. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me type this? Anyway, so there were…. Erm.. maybe six, seven men there…. I took 'em out fairly quick, they landed a couple of hits but nothing I can’t handle.” Dick felt his side protest at his lie, as blood continued to seep from the wound with increasing hostility.  
“You should’ve told me you were injured, I wouldn’t have asked you to make the journey otherwise.” Bruce eyed him again, this time more critically, slowly examining each part of his son’s body.  
“Don’t worry about it, like I said nothing I can’t handle…. But whilst on the topic why did you ask me here? I could’ve sent you my report later as usual.” Shifting subtly to try and hide the ever-growing wound, he returned eye contact with the man who’d raised him, hoping for once he wouldn’t be so damned observant.  
“No one heard from you outside your reports this week. Not even Damian, I wanted to make sure you were alright.” The Bat paused, struggling with showing concern for his eldest, he struggled at the best of times but being in the cowl made it even harder. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, and when that happens you can get reckless so I wanted too…”  
As the truth of the statement sunk in, Bruce’s eyes widened in alarm and he rushed to press his hand into the holes in Dick’s side.  
Dick jolted from his semi-conscious state at the sudden movement, grunting slightly at the sudden pressure. Bruce hauled him up as gently as he could with one arm moving him swiftly to the med bay, all the while yelling at the computer to send a message for Alfred. Setting the injured bird down and peeling his jacket off to get a better look at the damage, Bruce began cutting away the torn suit to give Alfred better access when he came down to do a more thorough assessment. Dick was decreasingly aware of some kind of cloth being moved against the jagged skin, sending prickles of feeling across his torso, but it had all began to feel distant and numb. The last thing he felt aware of was the shift in position on his right before the oxygen in his lungs became too thin and he fell into the darkness. 

Voices swirled in and out of focus as Dick felt his mind begin to return to reality, he became aware of a slightly heavy feeling on top of his body that he associated with being sedated.  
“He’s resting at the moment, I know you’re eager to tell him off but at least let him sleep for a while longer.”  
If he’d been able to he would’ve laughed, the person talking was likely very aware that there was half a pharmacy in his system to keep him unconscious and stop him pulling on his stitches. Hey, he had stitches looks like he’d be waking up soon regardless of what the person wanted, at least the person telling him off would be happy. A minuscule smile tugged at his lips as he drifted off again, his exhausted body taking the rest like an addict the next fix. 

Waking up for the second time felt far more natural, Alfred gave him a disapproving look and a bottle of water that Dick tried to drink slowly, after checking his bandages again he left promising to return with food shortly. Dick took the moment to observe his body noting that bandages had also been placed around his knuckles and wrists, as well as on his torso. It was clear that various ointments had been rubbed onto the now yellowing bruises during the day he’d spent asleep, checking the bed he found a small drawing under the pillow left by Damian. Warmth spread through him at the sweet gesture, though he wasn’t surprised he’d tried to hide it; resolving to do as his brother wished, Dicked tucked the drawing back under the pillow. Ace followed Alfred when he came down with food, the dog sitting at the bedside sniffing the air occasionally and look at one of his owners when he continued to note the scent of blood. The two men talked and Dick was informed he’d slept through the night the next day and through to lunchtime, giving him almost 48 hours of uninterrupted rest, meaning he would be allowed upstairs once his food was done. 

Damian and Tim arrived home from school whilst Dick was sat in the living room watching the news from the past day, the younger’s face lit up slightly seeing his big brother was up and not still resting in his recovery comma.  
“Grayson, I see you’ve stopped the dramatics.” there was no malice to his words and even Tim was no longer convinced by the youngest’s pretend at being uncaring. Tim rolled his eyes and tentatively wrapped an arm across Dick’s shoulder.  
“It’s good to see you’re up. Though I think Bruce and Barbara are fighting over who gets to yell at you first.” his tone was light and joking but he knew they would both be giving him an earful soon enough.  
“Thanks for the heads up baby bird, how you been whilst I was getting stabbed?” Tim jumped into excitedly telling him about the project he was working on at the moment with Bart to get a touch screen that could register touches at super speed. Dick briefly wondered what that would mean for the number of spam texts he would receive from Wally. Damian added a few playful jabs into the conversation, which Tim gladly returned when Damian began talking about school and training Alfred the cat to hunt. The three brothers sat enjoying each other company, though Dick felt his heart clench when his thoughts drifted to Jason, until the two had to go and make sure they got their homework done before dinner. 

Shortly after they’d left, the sound of a car pulling up along the gravel driveway filtered through the window followed by the sound of the front door opening and the owner of the manor entering. Bruce spoke briefly with Alfred, before coming into the living room and perching on the arm of the sofa Dick was lounged across.  
“I take it I don’t need to tell you how stupid what you did is.” His voice was warm and gentle, his hand made its way into Dick’s hair and began to comb out the tangles, Dick merely hummed in reply. “You scared me. I’d hoped you’d come to me if you felt like this again. I’ll admit I put a motion sensor on the vent so I’d know if you removed the cigarettes, that’s why I called you as well as not having heard from you.” The slight alarm at Bruce knowing about his bad habit dissipated before taking root when the hand continued cording through his hair.  
“I’m sorry B.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so small, he felt manipulative at the accidental reminder of when he’d been a child.  
“There’s no need to apologise, chum, I’m not going to yell at you.” Dick gulped slightly at the implication wondering if it were possible to hide from Oracle. “Don’t worry, I’ve already made her promise not to kick your arse until you’ve fully healed.” The smile was audible in his words, and Dick couldn’t resist returning it looking at his father and chuckling slightly at the amused expression on his face.  
“Gee old man, you not gonna protect me.” The mirth completely unhidden in his tone, he got a quiet hum in response before Bruce slipped onto the sofa moving his head onto his lap. Bruce pulled the book off the side table, giving it a critical once over before flicking open to a marked page.  
“I’ve been reading a collection of short stories lately, rather gothic I’m afraid, not exactly to your taste. Still, I doubt you could get up without my help right now so you’ll just have to listen to me read for a while.” Dick relaxed, leaning into his father’s stomach and allowing his voice to wash over him while fingers continued to play with his hair. Bruce smiled down at his son as he began to drift off again despite having only been up a few hours, he’d heal up well and be back in the game before he knew it. In the meantime, Bruce would enjoy having him at home and knowing he was safe, and hope that when he let him go he’d feel safe coming back when he needed. For now, Batman enjoyed the warmth beside him and continued to read, feeling at peace for the moment.


End file.
